Alfred the Great – 5

First a dense fog and then a great storm came on, bursting on the south coast with such fury that the pagans lost no less than one hundred of their chief ships.

Continuing Alfred the Great’s Reign,
with a selection from Life of Alfred the Great by Thomas Hughes published in 1869. This selection is presented in 10.5 easy 5 minute installments. For works benefiting from the latest research see the “More information” section at the bottom of these pages.

Previously in Alfred the Great’s Reign.

Time: 871-901
Place: Wessex

First a dense fog and then a great storm came on, bursting on the south coast with such fury that the pagans lost no less than one hundred of their chief ships off Swanage, as mighty a deliverance perhaps for England — though the memory of it is nearly forgotten — as that which began in the same seas seven hundred years later, when Drake and the sea-kings of the sixteenth century were hanging on the rear of the Spanish armada along the Devon and Dorset coasts, while the beacons blazed up all over England and the whole nation flew to arms.

The destruction of the fleet decided the fate of the siege of Exeter. Once more negotiations are opened by the pagans; once more Alfred, fearful of driving them to extremities, listens, treats and finally accepts oaths and more hostages, acknowledging probably in sorrow to himself that he can for the moment do no better. And on this occasion Guthrum, being caught far from home and without supplies or ships, “keeps the peace well,” moving as we conjecture, watched jealously by Alfred, on the shortest line across Devon and Somerset to some ford in the Avon and so across into Mercia, where he arrives during harvest and billets his army on Ceolwulf, camping them for the winter about the city of Gloster. Here they run up huts for themselves and make some pretense of permanent settlement on the Severn, dividing large tracts of land among those who cared to take them.

The campaigns of 876-77 are generally looked upon as disastrous ones for the Saxon arms but this view is certainly not supported by the chroniclers. It is true that both at Wareham and Exeter the pagans broke new ground and secured their position, from which no doubt they did sore damage in the neighboring districts but we can trace in these years none of the old ostentatious daring and thirst for battle with Alfred. Whenever he appears the pirate bands draw back at once into their strongholds, and, exhausted as great part of Wessex must have been by the constant strain, the West Saxons show no signs yet of falling from their gallant King. If he can no longer collect in a week such an army as fought at Ashdown, he can still, without much delay, bring to his side a sufficient force to hem the pagans in and keep them behind their ramparts.

But the nature of the service was telling sadly on the resources of the kingdom south of the Thames. To the Saxons there came no new levies, while from the north and east of England, as well as from over the sea, Guthrum was ever drawing to his standard wandering bands of sturdy Northmen. The most important of these reinforcements came to him from an unexpected quarter this autumn. We have not heard for some years of Hubba, the brother of Hinguar, the younger of the two vikings who planned and led the first great invasion in 868. Perhaps he may have resented the arrival of Guthrum and other kings in the following years, to whom he had to give place. Whatever may have been the cause, he seems to have gone off on his own account: carrying with him the famous raven standard, to do his appointed work in these years on other coasts under its ominous shade.

This “war flag which they call raven” was a sacred object to the Northmen. When Hinguar and Hubba had heard of the death of their father, Regnar Lodbrog and had resolved to avenge him, while they were calling together their followers, their three sisters in one day wove for them this war-flag, in the midst of which was portrayed the figure of a raven. Whenever the flag went before them into battle, if they were to win the day the sacred raven would rouse itself and stretch its wings; but if defeat awaited them, the flag would hang round its staff and the bird remain motionless. This wonder had been proved in many a fight, so the wild pagans who fought under the standard of Regnar’s children believed. It was a power in itself and Hubba and a strong fleet were with it.

They had appeared in the Bristol Channel in this autumn of 877 and had ruthlessly slaughtered and spoiled the people of South Wales. Here they propose to winter; but, as the country is wild mountain for the most part and the people very poor, they will remain no longer than they can help. Already a large part of the army about Gloster are getting restless. The story of their march from Devonshire, through rich districts of Wessex yet unplundered, goes round among the new-comers. Guthrum has no power, probably no will, to keep them to their oaths. In the early winter a joint attack is planned by him and Hubba on the West Saxon territory. By Christmas they are strong enough to take the field and so in midwinter, shortly after Twelfth Night, the camp at Gloster breaks up and the army “stole away to Chippenham,” recrossing the Avon once more into Wessex, under Guthrum. The fleet, after a short delay, crosses to the Devonshire coast, under Hubba, in thirty war-ships.

And now at last the courage of the West Saxons gives way. The surprise is complete. Wiltshire is at the mercy of the pagans, who, occupying the royal burgh of Chippenham as headquarters, overrun the whole district, drive many of the inhabitants “beyond the sea for want of the necessaries of life,” and reduce to subjection all those that remain. Alfred is at his post but for the moment can make no head against them. His own strong heart and trust in God are left him and with them and a scanty band of followers he disappears into the forest of Selwood, which then stretched away from the confines of Wiltshire for thirty miles to the west. East Somerset, now one of the fairest and richest of English counties, was then for the most part thick wood and tangled swamp but miserable as the lodging is it is welcome for the time to the King. In the first months of 878 Selwood Forest holds in its recesses the hope of England.

Thomas Hughes begins here. John R. Green begins here.

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